Maybe, Maybe Not
by iWafflee
Summary: Piers adores his captain, anyone who looked at him knows that. But when a drunk escapade goes too far and complicates what Piers feels for his captain, he stresses and becomes unsure how long his adoration was something more. Nivanfield.
1. Oh Well, Oh Well

**Chapter One.**

Piers sighs in exasperation as the night continues on. It was already late, but he needed to finish his damned paperwork before he went home. Besides, it's not like he lived home alone, anyway. Piers is staring at the paperwork in front of him, completely and utterly zoned out. He sits, staring at the paper about some mission he went on months ago. _This is what you get for procrastinating, Piers, _he thinks to himself, chewing on his lip. How is he going to write this when he can hardly remember? He sits there, staring for god knows how long, unsure. He just keeps reading the title over and over again. _Field Mission 26: Grandaya investigation. _Okay, so Piers knew who Grandaya was. Mason Grandaya was a suspect they had for Bioterrorism. He remembers faintly going on that trip with Chris, but barely. He went on so many these days.

"Earth to Piers," a deep voice speaks and he jumps. Piers looks up to see Christopher Redfield standing over him, "you've been staring at that paper for ten minutes, what is it, anyway?"

"Grandaya investigation," Piers says and Chris nods, leaning a little bit on Piers' desk.

"Oh, are you stuck? I wouldn't be surprised if you couldn't remember. You're such a dunce, you know?" Piers was nodding at his comment until the last part. Piers gave him a glare that he hoped would freeze over hell.

"Hey, fuck you Captain," Chris smirks because it's obvious he won this arguement. Piers glares at him, folding his arms. Chris chuckles lightly, before straightening his posture.

"Well, if you're really that busy, I suppose you can stay here while I go home," Chris says, and Piers glares further, "I'll see you at home."

Yep. Piers was living with Chris. To anyone else, they'd think it was either a. out of place or b. just plain odd. It wasn't for them, Chris and Piers were partners, and were reletively closer than the rest of the men to one another. Almost at the moment that Piers thinks it, Chris pats Piers' shoulder before walking out of the office. Piers sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He had to finish this report. He gets back to work, trying his hardest to remember, but he just can't. _Okay, so Grandaya was...was...where was he even stationed? I can't remember. Fuck, I need to finish this report, god damn it. Okay, so, he was a suspect. But why, again? Ugh, why is my memory such a mess?_ He sighs and looks at the clock. How long had he been thinking for? A while, obviously. When Chris left, it was eleven-thirty. It was past midnight, now. Yeah, okay, Piers had to leave now. He got up, organizing the paperwork best he could before sticking it into his drawer. He grabs his black jacket and pulls it on before leaving the office with the last couple of people who were still quietly working.

Piers heads down to the parking lot, walking out into the crisp, cold fall air. It wasn't cold like winter, but it was cold enough to chill him. He shivers slightly, before heading to his car and hopping in. He turns the keys into the ignition and starts driving home. He sighs, running his fingers absently though his hair. Maybe Chris would remember that mission, and, like Piers, maybe not. _Yeah, Captain will remember. He usually does. After all, he is my superior for a reason. Yeah, a superior that I wish wasn't my superior because - shut up. _

Piers shut his mind up and focused on driving, sighing with anxiety.

Piers was home faster than he would have liked, and the door, unsurprisingly, wasn't locked. He walked in, expecting Chris to either be in the living room or the kitchen. Or his bedroom, that always worked. But when he walked in? The lights were off. And that was weird. Piers looked up at the clock in the house that was nearly engulfed by the darkness. _1:30. _Yeah, it added up, Piers took the long way home, hoping to calm himself down because of his anxiety of a lot of different things. He looked around and turned on the light in the kitchen. It turned on, and lit up some of the apartment they shared. Yep, sure enough, everything in here was untouched. Did Chris lie and not even come home? It seemed that way. It seemed he'd just unlocked the door, stepped in for something and then left. He couldn't have been here for more than...five minutes?

Piers turns on all the lights in the apartment, and waits. Piers hates that he's so nervous about Chris, he could take care of himself. But it wasn't that Chris was gone that worried him, it's what Chris was doing while out that did. Piers sighs, rubbing his face and running his hand through his hair. An hour passes, it's now two-thirty and no word from Chris at all. Piers feels sick to his stomach as he paces, and, blessedly, his phone starts ringing. He reaches in his jacket pocket, looking at the ID. _Captain, _it read and Piers sighs in relief, flipping the phone open.

"Captain? Where are you?" Piers asks, relief still in his chest. Relief short lived. It's noisy in the background, and that makes Piers suspicious.

"Piers, come get me?" Piers feels like he's been punched in the gut as his worst fear is realized. His captain has been drinking, and not just a little. He was completely drunk. His words slurred together, and his voice had a gruff tone to it. But why? He'd been doing fine, absolutely fine when he left the office. Piers didn't understand, and he feels hurt. All of his trust in Chris flew out the window. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Fuck. _

"Stay put. I'm coming to get you," Piers says as he grabs his keys. He hangs up, heading toward the elevator of the apartment, "the fucking shit I do for him. I need to stop covering for him." Piers is talking mostly to himself, trying to talk himself out of going and getting him, no doubt. Piers rides the elevator all the way down, and walks out to his car. Fucking Chris. He gets in his car and starts it up.

"Hoofuckingray," Piers says flatly. This would be fucking good.

When Piers gets to the bar, Chris stumbles out, and Piers, once again, has to play mommy. Chris stumbles into Piers, who sighs.

"Captain, what are you doing here?" Piers asks, and Chris stays silent. Oh ho ho, the silent treatment. Piers sighs as he helps stable Chris and they start walking towards the back of the bar where Piers' car is, "captain, answer me."

Silence. Ugh. Why did he always do this? What was his reason, anyway? Good god. Chris looks at him, and then looks ahead. After what feels like an eternity, they're in the car on the way home. Piers feels so stressed, and the smell of liqour is all over Chris. It smells disgusting. Why did he drink, why? He chewed on his bottom lip obsessively, truly irritated. When they finally get to the apartment, Piers is more than angry, he's _raging. _Piers cannot wait to get into the building. Fuck this.

"Piers," oh, so Chris _can _talk.

"What," Piers snaps, walking towards the back of the apartment building that would be faster to get to the elevator from. He wants to sprint to the elevator and get the fuck away from Chris. When he drinks, he disgusts Piers. He's almost to the door, oh god, just a little farther. He could make it, yes, he could make it. Just a bit farther.

"_Piers,_" Chris is pushier now, and Piers whirls around.

"What!" He barks and suddenly, without warning, Piers is against the wall next to the door, sandwiched between the cold wall and his superior's warm body, "captain...?" Chris doesn't answer, and Piers feels a huge burst of panic along with fight of flight. He feels caged and scared out of his mind. Chris is looking at him as if he's searching for something. Piers swallows uncomfortably, his chest pushed against Chris'. Chris meets his gaze, and Piers feels his panic increase. _Run, push him away, _Piers mind is trying to stay calm, but he just can't move. He's frozen in place. One of Chris' hands came up from keeping him in place to stroke Piers cheek. Piers swallows again, starting to lose it. He wants to speak, but he just can't. Piers has to suck in air to breathe, and he feels clausterphobic. Chris keeps stroking his cheek, then moves to stroke his neck. Piers shivers, breathing out. Piers decides it's time to try to speak.

"Captain, we should go inside -" Piers starts, trying to find some excuse to stop his captain and stop him _now. _But he is cut off by...Chris' lips meshed against his. Piers panics, starting to struggle to push Chris away. He only succeeds for a moment enough to speak one word, "no-"

"Shush," his superior growls, and Piers feels even more panic. Chris presses his lips back to Piers' and pushes him tighter against the wall. There was no way Piers could escape now. He was completely trapped. Chris' lips know exactly what they're doing, kissing Piers and stealing his breath. He can hardly breathe as it was just being close to Chris. With each brush of Chris' lips, Piers is gasping to keep air in his lungs. Chris was kissing him harder, sweeter. His stubble scraped Piers' chin as he deepened their kiss. Suddenly, without warning, Chris' hand begins to glide under Pier's shirt and jacket, touching his skin. Piers gasps, Chris' hand is hot as it glides over his skin and muscles. Piers' head is reeling, his brain short-circuting. Chris touches Piers' chest and abs, stroking, caressing as their kiss gets hotter, more desperate. Chris' lips make Piers feel like he's flying. Piers' hands rest on his superior's shoulders, but they itched to touch the skin that would burn him. He was cold, and Chris was hot, and it was such a contradiction that should never be mixed. Yet, here they were, playing with fire that could easily get out of hand.

Who was he kidding, it was already out of hand.

Despite the contradiction, Chris felt so deliciously _good _and the last thing on Piers' mind was stopping. But he had to. This was his captain, his superior, his _work partner. _Yes, Piers had wanted Chris for so long it hurt but he always kept himself in check. Having sexual relations with your partners in the BSAA was strictly _banned _and here they were, breaking that rule. He had to stop this, he had to stop this now. Chris' lips moved, then, following along Piers' jaw and down onto his throat. Now was the time, Piers decided.

"Captain, _stop. _You're shitfaced, you don't even know what you're doing. Stop this before it gets too far, which we know it will. Now _stop,_" Piers said and Chris laughed humorlessly and scraped his nails against Piers' naval. Piers' hips bucked.

"Why are you trying, Piers? You know you don't want me to stop. You say no, tell me this is wrong, yet, despite that we're doing it, you're body tells me yes. Your mouth says no, but your mind, your skin,your _body,_" he growls the last word, causing Piers to shiver under its intensity, "wants my attention, wants my touch, wants my lips. Stop trying to fight it, and just fucking give in and let me fuck you."

"No, no don't - we're work partners captain, stop this madness," Piers tries again to stop him, "you're not thinking straight -"

Piers is suddenly silenced when Chris' hand cups the bulge in Piers' jeans. Chris rubs, giving Piers friction. Piers' eyes roll back. _Oh god, fuck, _his brain goes blissfully blank when Chris squeezes. Piers feels his hips shake, and he lets out a breathy moan as Chris continues his treatment.

"You were fucking saying?" Chris growls in Piers' ear.

"I- I- I.." Piers tries to form an argument, but it doesn't form in his head. All he feels is Chris' hand rubbing against his arousal. Piers pants, his legs shaking with the effort to stay standing against the wall. Chris goes back to kissing his throat, letting his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. Piers shakes further, the pleasure intensifying. He can't breathe, he can't think. All that is at this moment is Chris, and he doesn't want it to stop. Chris begins to slow his hand, almost to a halt. Piers desperately bucks his hips against Chris' hand, and he realizes he is no longer in control of his body. Chris is the one in control, here, "don't stop, captain. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I thought you said you wanted me to," Chris says, and Piers knows he's got the upperhand. How fucking dare Chris throw his words back at him.

"I want... I want..." _What do I want? _

"Yes, Piers? What do you want?"

"..this," it comes as a whisper, and Chris kisses his temple.

"Then I'll give this pleasure to you," his words still slur, but thier power makes Piers shiver. Chris undoes Piers' jean button and unzips the zipper. Piers feels panic rising again, and he tenses. Chris kisses him again, and suddenly the panic is gone, replaced once again by the addictive pleasure that Chris is bringing him. Chris gets back to rubbing Piers' arousal, and Piers whines. The only thing holding Chris back now is the thin cotton of Piers' boxers. Chris rubs painfully slow. Piers bucks, throwing his head back.

"Please, more," _Stop this, Piers. He's your captain, stop begging him like his fucking dog. _But Chris obliges, gently pulling down Piers' boxers down. His jeans and boxers drop to the ground, and he feels horribly exposed. He shivers because of the cold, but then moans as Chris' hand strokes his length. Piers' legs are shaking so hard that he can hardly stand. Oh god, oh god. Chris kisses behind his ear, and Piers shivers again, the heat and knot in his stomach growing. Chris growls in his ear, Piers' shaking increasing.

"Fuck, you're making me crazy," Chris says gruffly in Piers' ear. Piers gulps down air, barely breathing. His moans and whimpers increase as Chris squeezes him harder. Piers licks his lips, panting.

"Oh god, I can't- fuck, kiss me," Piers begs, and Chris complies, pressing his lips against Piers, silencing his moans. Piers kisses back, biting Chris' bottom lip. Chris growls, forcing Piers' mouth open, his tongue sweeping against Piers'. He tastes like liqour, but underneath that, he tastes sweet and savory, and Piers tries his best to imprint it into his memory. Chris pulls away, and Piers whimpers.

"I can't take it anymore, it's too much," Chris says, and he undoes his belt and his pants. He pulls them down, and then he looks up. Piers looks at him, meeting his gaze. His pupils are so dialated, his eyes look pitch black. Piers shivers, because Chris is looking at him as if he's the most beautiful thing in the entire world. Piers watches as Chris lets his boxers drop. Piers looks away once they hit the ground, his face hot. Chris presses his hips to Piers' and their erections brush together. Piers gasps, and Chris kisses his neck all over again, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a mark. Suddenly, Chris puts his hand around both of their lengths and begins to stroke. Piers' eyes roll back. Their lengths brush together while Chris strokes, and the heat in Piers' stomach intensifies. He shakes, unable to stop himself. Piers leans forward, his lips searching for Chris'. They meet, and Piers sighs, kissing him hard and sweet. In response, Chris' stroking increases speed.

The knot in his stomach is getting tighter, the pleasure increasing as Piers moans into Chris' mouth. Chris is bringing him closer and closer to the complete edge. Piers is shaking, and suddenly, without warning, he speaks.

"Faster," Piers rasps, pulling away from Chris' lips. Chris obliges, not denying Piers anything. The speed once again increases, faster, faster, and Piers is dangling on the edge of oblivion. Piers' muscles start to tense, and his moans get louder. He leans forward to bury his face in Chris' neck, shaking so hard he can't even stand anymore. Chris presses him against the wall again and uses his free hand to pull Piers' legs around his waist. Piers uses his legs to pull Chris ever closer. Piers is suddenly there, without warning at all, at the edge, and he's ready to beg Chris to tighten his calloused grip and bring him release. Chris kisses Piers and then, sure enough, tightens his grip. Piers cries out into his captain's mouth, his back arching, body shaking as his erupts into Chris' hand. Piers' head is just full of white hot pleasure for a moment, and then, several words that describe how Piers feels slip through.

_Used. Scared. Confused. _But most strong of them all, _filthy. _Piers feels dirty and digusting and he uses his strength to push Chris away. Chris lets him. Piers unwraps his legs from Chris and pulls up his boxers and pants. He turns, opens the door, and sprints to the elevator. He presses the close button, their floor, and then puts his hands on the doors. He's shaking, pleasure still running through his system. But at the same time, he knows what happened is a. wrong and b. can never, ever happen again. Not. Fucking. Ever. He feels sick, so completely sick.

_Flithy. Flithy. Flithy. _

Piers basically bolts for the apartment once the door opens and opens the door. Chris isn't there yet, thank god. He runs, jumping over the couch to make it to his room faster. When he reaches his door, he opens it, slams it, then locks it. He presses his forehead against it, breathing hard. He prays that Chris doesn't come and try to talk to him, god forbid he does that. Piers feels like he's going to be sick, like he'll gag and retch all over the place. He lays down and starts taking deep breaths.

"Just calm down, just calm down," he says to himself, trying to stop the shaking. Eventually, it does stop, and he relaxes. Then another feeling overwhelms him. Tired. He's suddenly falling asleep. He sends one last look toward his door, but eventually, falls asleep.


	2. The Silence

**Chapter Two. **

Piers awakes slowly, lazily. His body is heavy, and when he moves it, its sore. Why was it sore? Then suddenly, the night before came back to him. Chris. Him. Fucking outside. He runs a shakey hand through his hair. Did that...really happen? Did he and Chris really fuck? He sighs shakily, and looks at his clock. _11:30. _Dammit, he was supposed to be into work hours ago. Well. He sighs and gets up, still in the same clothes that he wore last night. He unlocks the door, and steps out into the hall. The apartment is empty, Chris already gone. Did he really not bother to wake Piers up? Did he not because he felt like it wasn't important, or because he didn't want to face Piers after last night? He sighs, and decides since he's already late, might as well be _more _late. He goes into the bathroom, and looks into the mirror, analyzing the damage. His lips are bruised and swollen. His eyes look tired, and vacant. His neck has small marks and hickies. Okay, maybe he shouldn't go to work at all.

He sighs and takes his shirt off to get into the shower. Piers looks at chest, some places red because of how hard Chris gripped him. There were streaks of red down at his naval from where Chris scratched him. He looked at his hips, and realized...they were bruised, already turning blue. Did...Chris really grip Piers' hips so hard that he bruised him? He touches them, and they ache in protest. He sighs, and then takes off his pants. They drop, and he lets his boxers drop too. His body aches so badly he doesn't think he can stand up in the shower. Oh well. He hops in and turns on the water anyway. The water is so hot that it nearly burns his skin, but it relaxes his muscles.

He sighs, letting his body slump.

Piers was exhausted, and didn't want to go into work today. Not. At. All. One, he'd have to face Chris. But that would happen sooner or later. Two, he was sore, tired, and totally and utterly marked. It didn't matter what he'd do, it's totally obvious someone had been all over him. He sighs, quickly showering and getting out. He dresses quickly, trying to get to work as fast as possible. When he re-enters the bathroom, he looks better, more alive than dead. The marks on his neck are still there, but whatever. He takes a deep breath and takes his keys out of his pocket. He takes the elevator down, running his fingers through his hair. The doors open to...Chris. Piers feels panic rise in his chest, and Chris tilts his head, his expression clouded.

"You okay, Piers? You don't look too well," Chris speaks normally.

"Oh, I'm fine. Didn't feel too well when I first got up, though," he says, doing his utter best to give a smile that looked convincing even though he felt like utter shit. Well, at least Chris didn't bring last night up. That would have been a nightmare. Piers shakes his head, "uh, what're you doing back here?"

"Actually, I was coming back to get paperwork and to check on you. I tried to wake you this morning, but you were out cold. So, I decided maybe it'd be best if I let you sleep," Chris said, and stepped into the elevator. Him being in close proximity made Piers want to take a step away from him. Was this how it was going to be, now? Was Piers going to be like a startled cat toward Chris, ready to swipe at any sign of advance toward himself? Piers jaw clenches, and Chris looks at him questioningly, "uh, care you ride the elevator back up with me really quick?"

"Sure," Piers says, and internally flinches. The word sounds so much harsher than he meant it to. Chris looks forward and then presses their floor and the elevator closes. Caged in, now. Piers feels such clausterphobia that he can hardly breathe. He stares at the floor, and suddenly, he feels fingers on his cheek and he jumps back as if they burned him. Piers' eyes whirl and set on Chris's. The suspicion in Chris' eyes is suddenly evident.

"Calm down, kid. You had toothpaste on your cheek, you act like I'm going to hurt you," _Or fuck me,_ Piers' brain grumbles. Chris' hurt is like a slap in the face to Piers. He was hurting him because he didn't want to be close. Piers suddenly feels terrible.

"No, I'm sorry, Captain. I-" Piers starts to apologize, and Chris holds up a hand.

"Don't worry about it," his tone makes Piers know that he was going to. Piers sighs, wanting to say sorry a thousand times to make him feel better, but he stays silent. They ride the rest of the way up in complete silence, and it makes Piers want to fill it. But with what? What could he talk to him about? _Hey, by the way, in case you forgot, you kind of fucked my brains out last night. Ha. How about no. _He would not bring that up. That was now officially a taboo subject. Never to be spoken of again. If he didn't bring it up, Piers wouldn't either. He would not talk to his superior about how Piers begged Chris to fuck him. Nope nope nope.

The elevator stops, and Chris steps out. He turns to look at Piers and throws a smile.

"I'll see you at work," Chris says, and Piers nods, clicking the lobby button in the elevator. And as it goes down, Piers sighs. Some day, huh.

Piers' operation of avoiding Chris wasn't actually going too shabby. It was going for a good solid week now. He was an expert at avoiding. He only spoke to Chris when he needed to, and only touched him when he absolutely had to. Other than that, there was a huge wall between the two, which was how Piers wanted it. Playing cat and mouse was easy for Piers because he was quick. Although, his agression was growing becuase he had no way to get rid of it. So his plan was to go work out. The other men of Alpha team were there, too. Suddenly, the door to the right open, and all of them looked up.

Piers mentally groaned. In another branch of the BSAA, there's this hotshot kid, and everyone in Alpha hates him. For good reason. He's after their Captain, and it bothers them. He spots them and smugly smirks, walking over.

"Hey Alphies," he says, eyes pinning Piers. Not his face, but slightly downward. At his...neck. _Oh fuck me, _Piers miserably thinks, praying he won't point it out, "so Piers, who'd you get lucky with?" _Sly little fucker. _

"Fuck yourself, Brandon," Piers says through his teeth. No _way _was he ever, ever, _ever _going to say that he slept with Chris. No way, no fucking way.

"Come on, Piers. You're already boggarting the Captain to yourself, what else are you boggarting?" His tone towards Chris bothers Piers imensely.

"And I said fuck yourself, Brandon," Piers growls, getting up to go into the locker room.

"Aw, Piers. Are you angry? Come on, now. Stop boggarting, you're closer with the Captain than anyone else. Why?"

"Like I'd tell you, you unbelievable ass,"

"Fine, don't. But hey, don't be surprised when Chris runs off and leaves you alone," Piers pauses. He turns and gives him a warning glare. Brandon continues anyway, "because, come on. If you really think that you've got a chance with him, then you're horribly mistaken. He needs someone who can hold him up, not down. There's a reason you're his puppy on a leash."

Piers whirls and lunges for Brandon. He knocks him down, and starts wailing on him before he can stop himself. Brandon fights back and knocks Piers off of him, and Piers falls. Something cuts deep into his side, and it hurts, but he doesn't have time as Brandon is on him now, throwing punches into Piers cheeks. Piers fights back, socking Brandon hard on the nose. It immediately spurts blood and they keep wrestling on the floor until they are pulled apart. Piers still wants to punch his teeth out, but strong arms cage him in. A familiar musky scent reaches his nose and he realizes it's Chris.

"Piers! Piers, stop!" Chris shouts, gripping Piers tightly to his chest. He hated being close to Chris, but that didn't mean that Brandon could talk about Chris that fucking way. Chris struggles with Piers and finally, they're out of the room. Chris drags him down the hall, getting him into the medical office. It's empty, and Chris looks Piers over.

"Look, I'm fine," Piers snaps, and Chris raises an eyebrow.

"You're bleeding, now lay down and shut up," Chris speaks harshly, and Piers looks down at his shirt and sees that he is, indeed, bleeding. Whatever he had cut himself on made him bleed. He sighs and walks to the examining table and lays down. He watches Chris intently, but doesn't let him know he's doing it. That would ruin the entire avoiding Chris thing. He watches as Chris looks for something on the table, his tight shirt showing every ripple of his muscle. Piers licks his lips. Damn it all. Damn it all because despite being drunk, Chris was right. Piers wanted Chris so badly it hurt, but never got the chance, and didn't take advantage when he did; now he's just spiting Chris for something that he didn't even remember happen. Piers sighs.

Chris turns back to him, and Piers looks at the ceiling. Chris walks over, and touches Piers' shirt hem. As defense, Piers stiffens. Chris sighs, and pulls Piers up into a sitting position.

"Piers, we need to talk," Chris says gruffly, and Piers looks away.

"If you want to," Piers says coldly.

"What's been your problem the last week? I mean, yeah, you're irritated, but you're irritated _all the time,_" Chris says, looking Piers dead in the eye, "and you've been avoiding me at all costs. You don't want to speak to me, hell, you don't even want to look at me. What did I do that made you so mad? And why did you pick a fight with Brandon? It's unlike you. What happened that made you so mad, Piers?"

Silence. Piers gives him silence in response.

"_Piers,_" Chris pushes, and it reminds him too much of the way Chris said his name when he pinned him against the wall.

"Because," Piers growls out and begins to get up. Chris grabs the chair behind him, and cages Piers knees with his.

"Piers, tell me. What happened?" Chris is tentative now, and Piers wishes he could be angry at him. Piers looks away from Chris' gaze, trying to focus. How could he even begin to...?

"Well, last week, you and I..." Piers swallows, not sure how to tell him.

"You and I?" Chris pushes and Piers takes a deep breath.

"You and I... you were drunk and we...we...we fucked," Piers finally lets it out and feels so much relief that it's not even funny. He feels like breathing is easier, and he looks back at Chris. His face is unreadable. Then, he speaks, his voice heavy.

"Oh god, Piers, I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Piers says, feeling relieved.

"It's in no way okay," Chris says stiffly, "why didn't you stop me?"

His tone is accusing. "Uh well..." _Because I wanted you to. _That would fly really great, "uh, you kind of came onto me. I wasn't really thinking straight, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong, Piers," Chris says, getting up and placing his hands on Piers' shoulders.

"Are you going to inspect me, now?" Piers asks, and Chris nods.

"Yeah, lay down," Chris says gently, and Piers does as he's told. Chris once again touches his shirt hem and pulls it up to his collar bone, "yeah, you cut yourself pretty deeply. I don't even have the faintest idea what you fell on, but you're going to need stitches."

"Alright," Piers said, and Chris got a needle and started to stitch him up. He watched as Chris focused on his work, and he let his tongue poke out to wet his lips. Piers suddenly got an insanely strong rush of desire to kiss them. Chris was finishing, and Piers knew he should stop staring, but he couldn't. Chris turns and grabs some gauze to wrap his stitches. Chris did so quickly, and then smiled at Piers. The smile did unnecessary things to Piers' stomach. Chris gently let his hand glide down to his stomach from his chest, and the feeling intesified. Piers had to focus on breathing.

"Well, you're done, and try not to stretch too much. Don't wanna rip your stitches, right? And..." Chris meets Piers' gaze, and then looks down at his hand. He licks his lips, "and... and fuck. I want you." The words make Piers shiver. Piers' breathing becomes ragged. No, this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. Chris leans down, letting his free hand clasp the back of Piers' neck, "can I...?"

His breathy voice makes Piers' brain go blank. "Yes," Piers whispers. Chris leans forward slightly, capturing Piers' lips in a kiss. Piers kisses back, Chris' stubble brushing his chin. Chris' hand travels lower to Piers' naval and Piers gasps into Chris' mouth. Chris' hand continues downward, starting to touch Piers' already straining bulge. When his fingers begin to caress it, Piers moans in pleasure, shivering deliciously and -

"Jesus!" No. Oh god no. Someone had _not _just walked in on him and Chris together like this... Piers turns his head, ripping his lips from Chris' to see Jack. A rookie, the boy had just barely joined the agency. And he'd just seen Chris and him - oh god, the horror. Piers sits up, grabs his shirt, and pushes past Chris out the door. Piers puts on his shirt rushingly, looking for Jack, but he doesn't see him. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Okay, now it was definitely time to leave, before Chris caught up with him. Piers made a mad dash for the stairs, running them easily with so much adrenaline running though his system. He opens the door to the parking lot and takes a deep breath of crisp fall air.

Piers sprints to his car and opens the door. Fuck this, he needed to get away from here as fast as possible. He drives home and gets to the apartment, opening the door and slamming it. Whew. Safe. Piers turns and sees Chris. Piers jumps, yelps, and grabs his chest. "Jesus! Don't scare me like that!" Piers exclaims and Chris walks forward.

"We need to speak about this, Piers," Chris gives that same damn tone of business.

"I don't think we do at all," Piers says flatly and Chris steps forward, putting his hands on his shoulders. Piers tries to pull out of his grip, but fails.

"Piers, it's not wrong," Chris says and Piers laughs humorlessly.

"Oh, let me tell you!" Piers says, and tries to pull away again.

"Piers, stop," Chris orders and Piers calms. Fine. Chris then looks him in the eye, "I'm going to kiss you now, Piers."

Here? Now? Piers panics. No no no, what happened less than a half an hour ago when they last kissed? No no no. Piers is about to voice his speech about why they can't when Chris' lips press to his. He tastes so sweet that Piers can't get the urge to fight him. Chris' lips are defined, and when sober, clumsy. Piers doesn't mind, he just kisses back. Then he feels the attitude of _more more more. _He wants Chris here and now, and he can't. It's wrong. Piers pulls away, gasping for breath and Chris kisses his already mark-ridden neck, wrapping an arm around Piers' waist, pulling him flush against him. Piers has to swallow a moan, but it doesn't go unnoticed. Piers has to speak now.

"Captain, no," Piers says, pushing him away, "grant me a rule."

"Piers, please don't ask of me what you're going to," Chris whispers.

"This can't happen. This has to stop, _now. _This rule is that we can't do this. Not anymore, not ever," Piers says stiffly, and Chris sighs, releasing Piers' body from his hold.

"Rule granted," Chris says flatly, and Piers realizes he'd hurt him.

He'd deal later. For now, Piers turned on him, marched to his room, and slammed the door.


	3. Radioactive

_A/N: Thank you for all of your positive feedback, you're all perfect. c: _

**Chapter Three.**

_ Okay, so, maybe I'm regretting that I forced Chris to make that rule, _Piers thinks grumpily, snuggling deeper into his bed. It had been four days already, and Piers was in no mood to go to work. The tension in the apartment was growing and growing and was in no way going to stop anytime soon. _Fuck it, _he thought, sighing. He wasn't going into work today. Piers lets his eyes close. He's truly tired. His door opens and he almost groans.

"You going or are you staying?" Chris' voice sounds flat and cold, and Piers feels suddenly agrivated.

"Staying," Piers meets his tone, and Chris sighs.

"Alright, see you tonight," it would have sounded normal if there wasn't such a bite to the words. Chris was mad, that was obvious, but in the meantime Piers didn't care. His door shut and he listened until the apartment door shut too. Piers closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

He didn't succeed. He was too restless. Piers sighs, deciding maybe it's best to at least face _some _of the world today. He had been avoiding it for four straight days now. Piers sits up and pulls of his covers, then a bit shakily, he stands. He runs his fingers through his hair almost out of anxious habit. He walks to his door and opens it.

Piers steps out in the hall, relieved that Chris is gone. Last thing he wanted to do was to get into another fight. Okay, so they'd been fighting for the past couple of days. But that's not Piers' fault, Chris provokes him. Then again, Piers started the entire thing with the rule. Ugh, it was all jumbled on who's fault it was. Maybe it was both of them. Piers sighed, walking into the kitchen.

Piers opened the fridge, but shook his head. He wasn't even really that hungry. He sighs, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. Why was he always so irritated? Piers walks to the living room and lays down on the couch. He sighs, and looks at the ceiling.

Why was Chris' behavior bothering Piers so much..? He didn't understand. Of course this would happen, after all, he pushed Chris away. So, yeah, this was Piers' fault entirely. It didn't mean he was happy about it. What did he even feel for Chris anyway? Ah, there it was. The question he'd been asking himself over and over and never could find the answer. He was confused, so confused.

_Do I actually want Chris romantically or did I just...let him bang me because I adore him too much to not give him what he wants? Everything is so confusing. I'm sure the way I've reacted doesn't help, but did I react that way because I want Chris or just because he was touching me and it felt good? _So many questions and no fucking answers. He didn't know what he wanted. But he would admit that what was going on right now was not what he wanted.

Chris began to put a distinct wall between him and Piers, and Piers didn't necessarily like it. It wasn't just avoiding like Piers had been pulling, it was worse than that. He _wasn't _avoiding Piers at all, but he _did _avoid anything that showed that they were ever close. When the Captain praised him, he used to pat Piers' shoulder. But he doesn't. He's barely even close to him at all, keeping a foot between him and Piers at all times. Piers was lucky to even have their shoulders brush.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. Why did this have to happen? All of this bullshit wouldn't have even happened if Chris had never gotten drunk and Piers had never went and picked him up. Piers stares at the ceiling. Bullshit.

:.:.:.:

Piers was being shaken, and he groaned. _Did I fall asleep?_ He wonders, stretching and wincing at the pain from the stitches had hadn't healed yet. Piers has to use actual effort to crack open his eyes and see Chris.

"What," Piers murmurs sleepily, rubbing his eyes like a little kid. Chris actually smiles slightly at Piers' behavior, Piers watches the sides of his lips twitch. He wishes he'd smile at him.

"Get up, kid," his voice is soft, mostly, which was unusual for the last couple of days. And, recently, he didn't shake Piers awake. Piers tilts his head slightly confused. Chris rubs his face, obviously stressed. Piers wonders if the atmosphere in the house made him that way. Chris looks forward for a moment, before turning his head back to Piers, "they gave me a field mission, today. They said I'd have to work out who I felt in my team I could go with. I suggested all of them, but they said the mission had to be undercover - two people at most."

"Oh," Piers says, not digging where this conversation is going. _He's not doing what I think he's doing..._

"Go with me?" Chris asks lightly, and Piers swallows.

"Of course, Captain," Piers says, and Chris nods.

"Alright," and there's the cold bite again. Back to the old ways.

_This is going to be a long fucking mission. _

:.:.:.:

The mission came much faster than Piers anticipated, but the terms that he and Chris were on weren't good at all. The fighting increased, both of them constantly clashing with one another. Anger, hurt, and strain on thier relationship was becoming more and more evident. People at the office were starting to notice the cold shoulder they gave one another. It was out of place for them. But at any given sign of trouble, Chris and Piers would spontaneously jump for one another's throat.

Piers hated all the suspicion surrounding him and Chris. On top of all of that, Piers still hadn't located Jack _anywhere. _He was starting to give up. Piers sighs in the locker room, getting ready for the next morning. Night had fallen already, and Piers was tired as hell, but might as well make sure everything still fits and that he's comepletely ready. Piers was in no way excited, though. Piers and Chris had been completely quiet that day and really hadn't even acknowleged one another's existance. Piers was in the middle of lacing up his boots, and he hears the locker room door swing open, the door itself groaning in protest.

Piers doesn't look up, the rookies usually come back to the locker room a lot, so it really wasn't surprising at all. Piers started to tie his right shoe completely, about to pull to tie it tight.

"Piers," his name startles him, and he looks up to see Chris. Piers breathes a sigh of irritation.

"Yeah?" Piers says, trying to sound normal, but his voice has an angry bite.

"Piers," Chris' voice softens, and Piers starts to tie his left boot.

"What do you want, Chris," Piers had a habit of calling his superior by his real name when irritated. Chris walks over and sits on the bench closest to Piers. Piers naturally takes a step away. And inhales. That's when he smells it. _Liquor. _No no no. Piers gives an accusing glare in Chris' direction, "have you been drinking?" Piers' voice is cold and judgemental. Not again. Not so soon. Instantaneously, fight or flight issues in Piers' system, his heart rate speeding up.

Chris looks down, and then back up at Piers and Piers feels like his chest is being crushed. Chris looked at him like a hurt puppy. Is this what he did? Piers swallows uncomfortably. He feels suddenly awful, and realizes that the only way that Chris could talk to him about it was when he had enough nerve to. In otherwords, when drunk. "We're going into this horrifying mission blind, Piers. We're fighting against a Bioterrism _group. _Not just one person investigation. These people will try to kill us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand, _mother. _Is that what you came to tell me?" Piers says, scoffing and getting back to tying his shoe. Chris looked at him, and Piers tried to ignore the hurt radiating from Chris. What could he _do_? Lift the rule? Fuck no. That would basically give Chris an open season reason to fuck Piers. Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna do that.

"No," Chris says so quietly Piers strains to hear him. Piers rolls his eyes. Drunken Chris disgusts him, when drunk he gets...weird. In more than a verbal way. Piers once again scoffs and puts his boot down on the floor.

"Then what do you want," Piers repeats, his voice still rough and angry. Chris doesn't answer, but reaches and snakes an arm around Piers' waist. Piers instantly stiffens in response. Chris pulls him forward, right up until Piers is at the edge of the bench.

"I want to do this before we leave. We could die out there," Chris says, his voice full of such emotion that Piers feels awful about resisting.

"Chris, no," Piers says, putting his hands on his superior's shoulders.

"Please," His begging nearly breaks Piers' resolve. _Nearly. _

"I said no. Rule, Captain. Rule," Piers tries to remind him that they made a rule against this. Chris obviously remembers, but also doesn't want to. Chris looks away, swallowing.

"Fine," Chris says, and the hurt in the word makes Piers feel that much more awful. Suddenly, Piers just wants to lean down and kiss him to make him wipe that damned look off his face.

"Captain," Piers hasn't called him Captain in quite the few days. Piers lets his fingers touch Chris' jaw, his stubble scraping Piers' fingers. Chris doesn't look at him, "captain, look at me."

Chris grabs Piers' fingers, and brings them to his lips. To kiss them, one by one. First his thumb, then his forefinger, then his middle finger, his ring finger, and finally, his pinkie. His lips feel soft, and Piers suddenly feels a rush of longing hit his gut. It's strong, and he inwardly beats himself up for it. _Knock it off, Piers. You're the fucking one who decided to push Chris away, stop it. _His brain was at odds with itself. Half wanted kept telling him the to knock it off. The other half was egging him on, telling him to just take what Chris was giving him. Fuck the rules. Fuck the BSAA. Fuck everything. Chris kisses Piers' palm, and Piers feels a slight shiver go down his spine. _I want those on my skin, _the part of his mind telling him to give in lets the thought slip to the surface. And it was true, Piers did want Chris' lips on his skin.

Chris looks up and locks eyes with Piers. Piers watches as Chris' eyes darken. Piers wants to shiver under the intensity of his gaze, but instead retracts his hand and steps away. He needs to get out of here. "I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Piers curses that his voice sounds so high-pitched.

"See you," Chris says, and Piers quickly, before he can overthink it, leans down and kisses Chris very, very lightly and pulls away fast enough so Chris doesn't react. Piers then turns, and swiftly leaves the room.

:.:.:.:.:

The next morning Chris is up and crisp in the morning. He actually greets Piers without coldness, and smiles at him. Okay, what drug was he on and where could Piers get it. Chris and Piers have, funnily enough, Finn drive them to the airport since they were flying to New York for this mission. Finn is naturally a nervous mess around Chris, and Piers finds it amusing. That was Piers once - he too was nervous and jumpy around Chris. But that felt like a lifetime ago, and Piers has a feeling Finn will always be that way. Piers looks out the window, watching other cars rush by as well as trees, concreate, and houses.

It seems like a lifetime before they finally make it to the airport.

Finn gives a rushed goodbye and good luck before waving and driving off. Chris laughs when he's finally gone. "What?" Piers asks as his captain laughs harder.

"Reminds me of you, back when you weren't such a whiny bitch," Chris says, and Piers gives him an offended look that makes his captain have to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Piers doesn't care that it's offensive, honestly. It's nice to hear his captain laugh, it's been lacking lately. And the fact that he allows Piers gives him a mock punch after his words shows that the captain's back. Piers would take whatever he could get, because he never knew when this captain would be gone again. Piers walks next to the captain, both of them have their suitcases rolling behind them. Piers and his superior talk about nothing in particular, and Piers tries to steer clear of last night and a couple of weeks ago. Luckily for him, Chris never brings them up anyway.

They start through security, and keep talking to one another. Until the woman running security starts flirting with Chris. Piers is torn between scowling and laughing. Eventually, after they're all out of security, Piers is tempted to tease the captain about it. So he does. "So that girl totally liked you," Piers says, starting it off, and the Captain rolls his eyes.

"This will be good," Chris meets Piers' amused voice.

"Think she'd security you for free again? I'm sure she'd like to. Especially in your pants," Piers says, and bites his tongue to keep from snorting.

"Hm, well. If you feel that way about it, maybe I should let her," Chris says, and Piers realizes that the damn bastard turned the tables.

"Well, maybe I should go on this mission while you go chill with the security lady. Sounds like a plan to me," Piers replies, keeping up with Chris' teasing.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you need someone to watch you," Chris replies, looking at the plane gate.

"Really? We're almost to our exit. Last chance for the security lady," Piers says, smirking.

"Nah, I'm good. Not unless you're joining, I'll be fine," Okay, what. Piers almost stopped. That was teasing, yes, but it was usually just teasing and never went into inappropriate. Not with the captain anyway. Piers can't think of anything to say, and looks down, his face feeling hot to what the Captain said. Piers finally calms himself and looks at the Captain, and he has the smug smirk he gets when he wins an argument. That damn fucking smirk that puts more heat into Piers' stomach than necessary. Chris meets his gaze and then quickly looks ahead. Piers realizes that they're heading onto the plane.

Okay, getting onto a plane was just as tiring every time. They stuffed thier things into the cubby above their seats and then they finally sat down just to wait for the plane to take off. Piers always got figetty and impatient on waiting. Chris knew this, and always laughed and told him to calm down. Like now.

"Calm yourself, Piers. You're going to be way too nervous if you keep it up," Chris murmurs, and Piers tries, but can't stop.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Chris is reading a book, and he looks up to glare at Piers.

"You _will,_" Chris says stiffly, and Piers tries really hard to stay still. But he just can't. Chris sighs, and rests a hand on Piers' knee to calm him down. His fingers trace circles on Piers' knee. So odd. So warm. So distracting. Piers stills, and he expects after a moment that Chris will remove his hand, but he doesn't. In fact, he gives Piers' knee the slightest squeeze. Piers suddenly feels calm, and it's like it's just them two in the plane. Which is...weird. It's weird because it hasn't happened it quite some time. Piers looks at Chris, and actually thinks. Deeply thinks. He looks at the way Chris is so focused on what's going on in the book, his face relaxed. His lips slightly parted. Piers actually thinks while sitting there.

_I want him. But it's wrong. That's why I have to push him away. If it was up to me, I would succumb to him and let him have me. Because I want him to. But...it's wrong and against protocall. Therefore, Chris is out of bounds, one step out of my reach, and I should feel very awful I'm thinking of him like this. But he was the one who started it, and - _

"You're staring at me," Chris says and turns his head to meet Piers' gaze.

"Uh, sorry," Piers apologizes, feeling his face heat up. He turns his gaze away from his Captain to hide his face. Chris chuckles, and Piers blushes harder. And suddenly, the pilot comes over the intercom, thank fucking _god. _He mentions that they're about to take off, so Piers puts on his seat belt and then smiles at Chris. Chris returns his smile and then Piers gets the stomach plummeting feeling, and they rise into the air. When they're finally up in the air, and Piers can breathe without feeling like puking, he smiles at the Captain again, whom by the way, got the window seat. Piers didn't really care, though.

_I have a nice view right here,_ Piers blinked. Where in his brain did that come from..? Surely he couldn't have been referring to Chris...surely...

Piers sighs, rubbing his face. God damn it. He was more uncomfortable here than he was a few seconds ago. Chris was sending him mixed messages, and it was driving him crazy. He looks at Chris again, and Chris looks back, mirroring his look.

"You okay?" Chris bothers to ask, and Piers swallows.

"I'm fine," His voice squeaks.

"_Piers,_" There it is, that damned edge to his voice.

"I'm _fine,_" Piers repeats, rolling his eyes.

"Piers," Chris' voice softens, and he reaches out to turn Piers' face toward him, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Stop being my mom, Captain," Piers says, removing his hand and laughing.

"I didn't mean what I said in a motherly way," the way Chris' voice drops makes Piers lock eyes with him. His mouth goes dry.

"Really? Then how did you mean it?" Piers asks, his voice breathless.

"Let me show you," Chris whispers, and Piers can feel himself losing his nerve. He wants to kiss him. Piers wants to kiss Chris with a passion. But he can't. And he won't. He sighs, before turning his face out of Chris' touch and looking away. Nope. Not going down that road, Piers was pushing it as it was. Piers stays silent for a long time, then Chris speaks again, "Piers, is this really how it's going to be between you and I?"

"Yes, it is. As long as it takes for you to stop this," Piers says, but his voice doesn't have the bite that he wants it to.

"Piers, don't you lie to me. I know you've felt it too, it can't have just been me," Chris says, his voice bordering rage.

"Ha. Oh really," Piers replies flatly, and Chris' anger is radiating off of him.

"Yes, really. I know you've felt it too, and don't lie to me about it. I will personally hit you right here and now. Honesty time," Chris says, his voice dangerously low.

"No, you're wrong about me, and you know it," Piers says, he's not bluffing. Well, not bluffing a lot. Only a little...lot.

"Oh, are you sure? It's so like you to begin to lose your nerve and lie. I know, and want to know how I know? Because despite that I fucked you without any warning; taking advantage of you for fuck's sake. Yes, I feel guilty. Yes, I'm sorry. But there's no denying that despite all of that bullshit, you still responded to me. You still moaned my name and begged me not to stop. You still did all of that," Chris says the words low, and Piers forgets that they're even in a plane with other people. Didn't he say he couldn't remember? The bastard was waiting until he caught Piers offguard. Rage filled Piers' every pore.

"Hah, I didn't respond to you, I responded to the fact that you were touching me," Piers retorts, and he can already feel the denial bubbling up underneath his skin.

"You're lying," Chris says, and by the tone of his voice, Piers knows this battle is already won.

"Fine, say you are right. We can't do it again. Not ever," Piers growls.

"If that's how you honestly feel about it, fine," Chris responds, glaring outside. Annnnnnnd the captain is back to the grumpy fucker that Piers is sick of. Piers sets his jaw, and for a while, feels absolutely irritated until the irritated fades into tiredness. Piers was tired, not only from Chris, but from everything. He feels himself falling asleep, and he just lets himself. There's really no point in fighting it. Piers lets his eyes drift close, and eventually, he's completely asleep.

:.:.:.:

"Piers time to get up," Chris' rough voice reaches Pier's ears and his eyes crack open. Chris is helping him up as if he were a child, and Piers is too tired to care. They both get off the plane and flee the airport as fast as possible. Suddenly, it seems things are looking up - Chris is back to his playful mood and on the way out, he throws out, "you snored so badly that I had to cover your mouth to make you stop."

"Don't even," Piers says, throwing him a grin. Chris smiles back, and goddammit Piers feels like he can't breathe properly. _Shit. _

"I do whatever I please, Nivans," Chris says, and walks forward to snag their rental car. Whoa, when had it gotten here? How fucking long had Piers been staring at him? They both hopped into the car and drove off to the hotel that the BSAA had booked them in. It was nice, first class, actually. A very pretty suite, but unfortunately, it only had one bed, and the awkwardness of figuring out would come later. Chris had plans.

"We need to scratch up information on the bioterrorist group, and the best place to do it is where some of them go on Friday nights," was it even fucking Friday? Piers thought about it and realized, yeah, it was. He nods in response to Chris, and they set a time on which they should leave. Piers felt weird getting ready in the same suite as Chris. One apartment was bad enough, and here they had even less space. Chris is changing in the livingroom and Piers at the moment is brushing his teeth. Piers can't help his brain as he looks into the mirror. Chris was shirtless out there, his muscle and warm skin exposed and... what in the fuck was he thinking?

_Filthy, filthy, filthy.  
_

_ Guilty, guilty, guilty. _

Piers growls in agitation when he realizes that his leather jacket to go over his v-neck shirt was _out in the livingroom. _He opens the door, and pauses just slightly before gathering up his courage and stepping out into the livingroom. Piers tried his damned best to not look at Chris, but as soon as his eyes dare to dart towards Chris' figure, he's completely entranced - his focus flying out the window. He lets his eyes sweep greedily over his superior's hard earned muscle, his mouth going dry. Chris must have felt Piers' eyes on his back, because he turned around. Piers meets his eyes instantly. Chris' eyebrow raises.

"Like what you see, Nivans?" Piers feels frozen. He swallows, and decides to try his best to at least seem composed.

"Not bad," Piers says and Chris chuckles, and Piers grabs his jacket and flees to the bathroom. He puts it on, his heart racing. God damn Chris.

:.:.:.:

When they are at the club, it feels totally uncomfortable for Piers. He's not usually good with social enviorments, and women are flirting with him every where he looks. He retreats to the bar, where Chris is sitting, surprisingly without a drink. He is calm, but Piers feels utterly suffocated. Chris fixes his dress jacket that sits over his white oxford.

"Sick of the attention yet, Nivans?" Chris' voice has humor. Piers glares.

"I guess," Piers says icily, "I thought we were here to investigate, not to goof off and flirt with intoxicated women."

"Lighten up, why do something that involves something fun and then not have fun at all?" Chris says, and Piers decides he has a point. A sudden dance song blasts through the speakers, and girls screaming about it echoes. Piers obviously made a face, because Chris chuckles. Piers shakes his head, and Chris grins, "well, if you really wanna get to it, we've gotta make our way though all of _that._" Oh jesus.

They both get up, and begin to try to push through the crowd. Some people reach out and touch both Chris and Piers, and Piers feels very uncomfortable. Chris towers over him, trying to get a better look.

"Dammit, lost 'em," Chris says, and Piers gives a glare.

"Great," Piers says sarcastically, "just our nigh-" He is cut off by someone knocking into him, and he stumbles forward, hands looking for something stable. He finds it. Chris' chest. Piers gulps and suddenly looks up, "sorry."

"You're alright," Piers is about to step away, but the ground moved, basically caging him into Chris with no where else to go. And he's so goddamn warm, and his smell is intoxicating... fuck. He shouldn't be thinking this, but where else could he go? He was trapped, utterly trapped. Just like the apartment wall all over again, "Piers."

Chris' voice, low and husky in his ears pulls him out of thought. "What?" Piers whispers back. Chris' fingers stroke his jaw. Instant panic, "what!" He hisses, and Chris' eyes meet his.

"Piers," Chris says again, and lets his thumb stroke Piers' bottom lip, "kiss me. Just one. I promise I won't let it go anywhere. Please." Uh, Piers was fully fucking aware of where this was going, yet he pulled on Chris' jacket and brought his face down to Piers. That didn't stop Piers at all from standing on his tip toes and meshing his lips to Chris'.

And this kiss would be even fucking better than the ones prior.

Piers was suddenly aware of every detail of Chris. The way his body - oh god, his muscled, warm, hard body, - pressed to Piers'. The way he tasted. Fuck, the goddamn way he tasted. He tasted so much better when sober. His taste was stronger, and Piers could even taste a tad of his mint toothpaste. This was going to go way too far. He didn't want to cut off their kiss; in fact, he wanted to get closer, wanted to have all that Chris had been offering him for so long that he kept pushing away. He'd pushed it away for so damn long that he didn't even know why anymore. Then again, he couldn't think of a fucking reason when Chris' lips were so demanding against his. Chris' arms caged Piers in, and pulled him closer, pushing his lips harder against Piers'. When Chris' tongue invaded Piers' mouth and sweeped against his, Piers let out a tiny moan.

Chris growls in response to it, and Piers pulls away to catch his breath. "Chris," Piers' voice is breathy, and Chris is already pulling him toward a nearby exit. Piers swallows, his stomach churning at the thought of having Chris all over again. Chris pulls him outside, finally, and they start heading toward the car.

"I think it's time to go home, don't you?" Chris' voice is just as breathy. Piers nods weakly.

:.:.:.:

Piers is trying his damnest to swallow his moans, but with Chris' hand inbetween his legs giving him friction, it was hard. The kissing started in the elevator, and it had continued down the hall, Chris never stopping his stride. Piers was now pressed against the hotel door, Chris' hand squeezing his bulge.

"Chris," he can barely get it out, and Chris turns his head to kiss Piers, trying to unlock the door. Piers hears the lock click, and Chris opens the door and pulls Piers flush against him, kicking the door closed as he does so. Their lips meet again, as if they can't go withouth the feeling of one another close. Chris and Piers begin stumbling down the hall, Piers' lips latched onto Chris' neck. Piers was biting and sucking any skin he could get his lips on. Chris paused when they were about halfway down the hall, his breathing ragged.

"If you keep that up, I'll strip you down and fuck you on the floor right here," Piers shivers at his statement, and Chris chuckles, "now let's get to the bed, shall we?" Piers' rush of adrenaline made him shake.

This would be one long night, wouldn't it.


	4. Dear Agony

_A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews and favorites. And thanks for the promotion on tumblr. Yeah. Uh. Bye. _

**Chapter Four.**

It was hard to balance when two people were completely glued together. Piers was struggling to stay upright with the way he and Chris were stumbling almost awkwardly to the bedroom of their suite. He and Chris were fused together, almost every body part touching. Chris was drowning Piers in affection, too. Kissing and biting his neck while his hips ground into Piers' with such force that Piers' head was reeling.

"Captain," Piers was moaning breathlessly right into Chris' ear, and each time he did, Chris doubled his effort and Piers' stomach grew uncomfortably hot. Chris was relentless on Piers, never faltering while Piers had to work hard to keep up with him. He was so hard it was literally painful. He wanted to beg Chris to at least give him the friction of his hand, but Piers did not want to wound his pride. Not like he hadn't already. They were almost to the bedroom, just a few more steps. Chris pushed him along, and Piers complied, speeding up their effort to the bed.

After what felt like an eternity and a thousand kisses and touches later, they were at the bed. Chris pushed Piers down onto it, hovering on top of him before pressing his hardness into Piers'. Piers threw his head back and let out a groan. Jesus, Chris was being straight forward. Chris began thrusting against Piers, Piers' body jolting with the impact. It was such delicious friction. Piers' eyes rolled back, completely lost in sensation. They both weren't making noise, just panting, each breath giving one another a silent agreement that everything about this was right. Just so _right. _

Piers feels close, and he hates that Chris can control his body so damn easily. "Chris, it's...it's too much..." And what does Chris do? Doubles his efforts. He thrusts harder, faster. Piers is shaking, gripping Chris until his knuckles went white. He's at the edge, just a few more thrusts and Chris will have thrown him off of it.

One. Piers arched into him, his chest heaving. "Don't stop, Chris, don't stop," he's moaning uncontrollably.

Two. Piers' body shaked harder than ever, anticipation and pleasure running through his veins like an addictive drug. One more, and he'll come undone. He's gasping for air, his head thrown back, his eyes shut; his vision was already beginning to go white. One more. One more.

One more that never comes. Chris gets off of him, and Piers gives a noise between a growl and a whine, bucking desperately against where Chris' body was just a moment before. Piers was to scream in frustration. Damn Chris.

"Get undressed," Chris' voice is husky but has a demanding tone, so Piers rushes to try to get his jacket and shirt off. It's not fast enough for Chris, evidently, because he's suddenly on top of him; basically ripping Piers' clothes off in an attempt to free him. Eventually, all of Piers' clothes are discarded, and he's naked underneath a fully clothed Chris. Piers almost feels self conscious. Almost. But really he has no time, because Chris' lips are back on his with a demanding and needy tongue. Piers kisses back, sucking on Chris' tongue to savor his taste. Chris makes a growling noise at the back of his throat.

Suddenly, Chris' hand is stroking down Piers' body, starting at his chest and moving downward. Piers gives a moan in response, his body arching under Chris' hand. Chris moves at a slow pace, his hand eventually teasing the sensitive skin right above Piers' groin. Piers whimpers, desperately wanting to buck his hips. Chris wants him to beg, he knows, but he won't. He'll lay here all night without a single regret than beg Chris to fuck him. Nope, nope, nope. After a moment, Chris' hand finally decends, and takes hold of Piers' dick. Chris does a quick, rough pace; Piers panting into the crook of his neck. Piers' arms latched around Chris' neck, finger nails digging into the sensitive skin there. He was panting, a light sweat breaking over his body as Chris' hand pumped him closer and closer to release.

Chris turns his head to kiss Piers, and Piers basically smashes their lips together. He's needy. Chris' hand tightens and ache in Piers' gut is getting stronger. Piers is shaking again, just like before, little moans coming out of the back of his throat. Chris moved to Piers' neck, kissing and biting and with each show of affection, the heat in his stomach was becoming unbearable.

"Piers," Chris' husky voice was suddenly in Piers' ear. Piers was too far gone to respond, his body was so close to release he could taste it. Chris kissed the skin right below his ear before continuing, "come for me." It game as a hushed whisper, and Piers' body instantly obeyed, arching into his touch and erupting into Chris' hand. Chris kisses Piers, swallowing Piers' moan.

Piers' chest heaves for a long moment, while Chris gives him lazy, sloppy kisses that he returns with the same lazy sloppiness. Piers finally catches his breath and kisses Chris harder, in which Chris pulls away and sits up. Piers gives him a questioning look.

"We should stop," Chris says, and Piers suddenly feels confused.

"What?" Piers asks, and Chris meets his gaze.

"Because it's not what you want - you've made that clear, and yet I still break the rules, as always," Chris looks away again, "you don't want it Piers, even now. You're overwhelmed, pleasured, but overwhelmed. And I'm taking advantage of you. It's wrong, and you're right about that, Piers."

"But I-"

"Look me dead in the eye and tell me you want to sleep with me, and I'll consider it," Chris says, his voice gruff. Piers looks up at him, meeting his gaze, about to open his mouth. Then it goes away, and he realizes that Chris is actually right.

Piers does not want to sleep with him.

"I...I don't want to sleep with you," Piers says, his voice quiet.

"Exactly," Chris says softly, gently caressing Piers' face, "you don't. Get dressed and we'll find something to do, okay? Promise."

"Alright," Piers feels utterly embarassed. Truly embarassed, and he wants to curl up and pretend this night didn't happen. He sits up, trying to keep his dignity, and picks up his clothes, swallowing hard. Chris doesn't look at him, and that hurts the most. He swallows again, trying to ignore the burning in his throat of embarassment and for an odd reason, rejection.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom hurriedly, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He rushes to put his clothes on, just wanting to get out of this damn suite where the smell of sex was suffocating. After getting dressed, he gives himself a once over in the mirror.

Piers has new hickies everywhere. His lips are once again swollen and bruised from Chris' treatment and his hair is messed up. He looks like he took a wrong turn into a strip club in Vegas. His eyes are too wide, adrenaline still running through his system. He felt disgusting.

_Filthy, filthy, filthy, as usual. _His brain whispered and Piers rubbed his face. He was starting to believe everything the damn thing said.

:.:.:.:

The night was quiet, and Piers and Chris didn't really speak much to eachother. Piers longed for Chris to talk to him and smile at him. He was given neither. The only conversation that they had was before they went to bed on who would sleep in the bed. Piers took the couch, and they were both stuck almost awkwardly in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Good night, Piers," Chris finally breaks the silence, and Piers looks up at him. They meet eyes, and Chris swallows as if he's debating something. His hand lifts and caresses Piers' face.

_Please, kiss me goodnight. Please kiss me. Please tell me that you still want me. Please. _

Chris removes his hand and shuts his door, shutting Piers out and into darkness.

:.:.:.:

Throughout the first week of the two of them being there, they kept up on the bioterrorist group called _Terra. _It was a weird name, yeah, but still. They tried their best to keep up with them. With all the busy things going on, the night that they almost had was forgotten. All memories about it gone.

On Chris' part, anyway.

Piers tried not to think about it. Some nights he could go to bed fine, and some nights he was so hard he couldn't stand it and had to act like it didn't exist to try and go to sleep. It was a horrible way to live.

This morning, Piers felt shitty. Chris had picked up on his mood, and obviously tried to make him feel better. It didn't work. They went out to breakfast and went into town, but Piers still felt utterly horrible. When they got back to the suite, Chris was quiet. Piers wondered if it was because he gave off a "leave me alone" aura.

Chris was currently ordering room service, and Piers looked at him and smiled. Tried to smile. The look Chris gave showed that he didn't do a very convincing job of it. Chris hangs up the phone and walks over to Piers, whom is sitting on the couch, and sits beside him. Piers meets his gaze.

"You gonna be okay, Piers?" Chris' voice is soft, and Chris massages the back of Piers' neck. Piers relaxes and even sighs in contentment. It feels nice. Piers once again looks at Chris. He's not sure what compells him to do so, but he leans forward and his lips press to Chris'. Chris is funnily enough, taken by surprise. Chris kisses him back, but only briefly before pushing on Piers' shoulder. Piers won't have it.

"Don't push me away," he whispers and smashes his lips to Chris' again. Chris responds for a moment and then pushes on him.

"Piers," he breathes, and Piers doubles his efforts to kiss him again. Same result, pushed away. "_Piers._"

"What," Piers snaps, trying to kiss Chris again.

"Piers, stop. What's the matter with you today? Knock it off-" Chris' words bite off into a groan when Piers forces his hand between his superior's thighs. Piers squeezes, and needily presses his lips to Chris' again. Chris kisses back, gasping against Piers' lips. Piers loves that fact that he's causing the erratic breathing. Chris and he kiss for some moments, until Chris, eventually, gets Piers off of him, "stop, stop, stop."

"Why?" Piers whispers, and Chris sighs, getting up from the couch.

"Piers," Chris says, crouching in front of him, "you don't want this. I know it, you know it, and the only reason you're doing it is because you're scared that I'll shove you away if you don't. Piers, I won't just drop you, I'm not that kind of person. Just because you and I had a thing for one night doesn't mean that we've gotta keep it going, you get me?"

"Yeah," Piers whispers, and wishes he didn't feel so damn rejected. This is what he wanted, pure partnership, right? That is what he was working for all this time...right? He's so confused.

"Piers," Chris' voice is soft as he tilts Piers' head up.

"What?" Piers whispers, and Chris sighs.

"You know that I'm not mad at you, right?"

"Yeah," Piers actually isn't as sure as he'd like to be.

.:.:.:.:.

Chris was gone today, off on whatever business he pleased. Piers tried not to worry about him, even though it was evening. So he sat in the livingroom, watching television. He was getting bored, though. It was just stupid soap operas and dramas at this time of night, so he turned it off and decided to go to bed. And that's when the door opened.

Chris entered the room quickly, and he spotted Piers and came to a halt.

"Welcome back," Piers greets, sounding normal. Chris doesn't say anything, "Chris?"

Chris instead closes the distance between them and without any warning smashes his lips to Piers'. Piers is taken by surprise, and then he tastes the liqour. He's about to pull away completely and scold Chris for drinking, but he doesn't get the chance to have a level head. Chris' hand is immediately between Piers' thighs. Piers gasps into Chris' lips, Chris' tongue taking advantage of Piers' mouth being open.

Piers wants to keep this situation under control, but it's too damn hard with Chris kissing him as if his own life depended on it. He's getting hard under the attention of Chris' hand, Piers' mouth giving slight whimpers. Chris' lips move in a frantic hurry to Piers' neck, nipping at his skin.

"Chris," Piers says breathlessly, "Chris, stop." Chris doesn't, he continues, squeezing Piers' growing hardness, and Piers can't help it, it just feels too good. Piers lets a moan escape. Chris begins to strip him, Piers' body tingling with anticipation.

"Get to the bedroom," His voice is rough and slurred, but Piers immediately obeys and walks down the hall, Chris behind him in hot pursuit. As soon as they enter the bedroom, Chris closes the door and he attacks Piers' clothes, basically ripping them off.

Piers doesn't care at this point.

Chris kisses his collarbone, pulling Piers' body to his mouth. Piers shivers. He lets a small moan out of his mouth, and Chris' lips come back up to his jaw. Piers is pushed down onto the bed, Chris is kissing him, and he's kissing back. Then suddenly when Chris pulls away, everything goes black.

Piers doesn't understand at first. Did he pass out or something? Then it hits him. He's blindfolded.

"C-Chris?" Piers suddenly feels the panic that should have started ages ago set in his bones.

"Shush," Chris says, raising Piers' arms over his head and pressing them to the headboard. Is Chris...tying him up? Piers swallows.

"Chris, what're you doing?" Piers asks, and he wishes his voice was more even. Chris' hands drop from Piers' and Piers is grabbed roughly by the chin, his hands now permanantly against the headboard.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?" Chris asks roughly and smashes his lips to Piers. Piers can't see him, and for an odd reason, that makes the kiss hotter. When Chris is done kissing him, he pulls away and gets off the bed, "now be a good boy and be quiet."

Piers swallows, the "good boy" going straight into his body, setting fire to his veins. He feels his face flush. Then, everything is silent. He doesn't hear anything; no rustling of clothing, no movement, no breathing. He's tempted to call out, but he was told to be quiet, so he doesn't. Then suddenly, Chris' calloused hands are on his body, and Piers trembles underneath him.

Piers can't see him, can't see what he's planning, and that makes adrenaline run through his veins. Chris' mouth was on Piers' neck, his collarbone, going down. Piers swallows, panting. His mouth travels downward, and suddenly falters, going to...his left nipple. Piers gasped, arching his back underneath the warm wetness of Chris' mouth. Piers feels Chris' teeth graze the sensitive flesh and he shudders. Oh god, oh god.

Suddenly, Chris is gone, and Piers whimpers under the cool air that touches his wet skin. Then all is dark silence again. Piers feels like a bug under a damn microscope. He doesn't know where Chris is, what Chris is looking at, and really, it makes him nervous. Piers tries to be quiet - tries to be calm, but it's becoming difficult.

Highly difficult.

Without warning, skin brushes his skin, and Piers gasps. Piers wonders if Chris is naked now, and that makes him blush. Good god, he felt like a virgin about to have sex with their long-term boyfriend. Chris doesn't really touch him again, but Piers feels his weight shift and hears something being dragged across the top of the nightstand. What was he grabbing?

Piers focuses on listening, but Chris is being quiet. Really quiet. _For how fucking drunk he is, I'm shocked he can even manage being quiet, _Piers thinks, and then he feels it. Between his buttocks there's pressure. What's Chris doing? Piers wants to panic and squirm. He feels Chris fingers stroking his enterence and Piers isn't sure how he feels about it.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Chris' voice is in his ear. Soothing. Comforting. Piers relaxes. Piers feels one of Chris' fingers slide into him, but he doesn't stiffen. But what is Chris doing? Then another finger, and that hurts a tad and Piers stiffens a bit. Piers doesn't know why, though, it's not like he's never slept with other men before; it's not like Chris is the first man Piers has been in love with. And Piers is definitely not a virgin.

But for an odd reason, Chris makes him nervous. Then he realizes it. Is...Chris...lubricating him...? Wait, wait, wait. _Wait. _This was going to go way too far, and he wanted out now. He started to squirm, his wrists stressing against what-ever-the-fuck was holding him in place. It felt like rope.

"Chris, let me go. Untie me, now," Piers says, trying to move his body, "you're drunk, let me go now." Chris' weight is suddenly gone. Piers breathes an anticipated breath, expecting to be untied so he can do what he should have done: scold Chris. He waits, but that is not what he gets.

He feels Chris thrust into him.

It's painful, and Chris isn't going slow. It hurts and Piers hisses. "No, god damn you! I said no!" Chris feels _huge. _It's painful, and Piers wants to fight against him, but he's tied up. So this was Chris' plan: tie Piers up so he can't fight back when he decides to fuck him. Piers feels like a lamb led straight to slaughter. Chris stills, and Piers debates if it's because he feels the need or if he's waiting for Piers to adjust.

Whatever, Piers just wanted the night over.

Piers feels Chris start to thrust into him. Pain, but at least it wasn't as bad or as searing as earlier. Piers just lets it happen. After that it just becomes a weird pressure that's not quite painful, but not quite pleasuring either. Just kind of...stuck in the middle. Piers feels like it will last forever, until Chris hits a bunch of nerves and it makes Piers arch off the bed.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't be forever. Piers heard Chris' chuckle at his reaction, and he hits the same nerves again, and again, and again. Piers can feel Chris' lips against his jaw, and he can feel himself shaking. Piers doesn't really focus after that: all he can feel is the pleasure coursing through his veins and the aching in his cock.

He desperately wanted to touch himself, but he and Chris were so close he doubted he would be able to if he could. Piers also resented the rope because it kept him from touching _Chris. _He wanted to touch him so desperately. He wanted to feel Chris' muscle underneath his hand, he wanted to grip him. But Piers couldn't, he was tied up.

Suddenly he feels Chris' hand on his aching member, stroking in pace with Chris' thrusting. The pleasure increases, Piers' gut becoming tight, so tight. Piers is gasping, his body getting closer and closer to the edge. Chris kisses Piers everywhere, each one adding more pleasure to his senses. A stroke of his cock, a brush of Chris' lips, a thrust into those nerves.

He wouldn't make it much longer.

Not with Chris fucking him like this. He's close already, and the more he pays attention to how it feels, the more pleasureable it becomes. Chris hits those nerves again, and Piers is shaking. He's so close he can fucking feel it. _Please, please I'll do anything, please, _Piers begs in his head.

And Chris gives it to him. He thrusts into him and squeezes his dick and just like that, his orgasm hits him and he arches up, moaning Chris' name; his seed pouring over his stomach. Chris keeps thrusting into him after that, and then he stills, and Piers feels his seed fill him up. Piers squirms a little bit underneath the uncomfortable sensation. Chris unties Piers' hands, and takes off his blindfold; curling up beside Piers. Piers should be angry, should be furious; but he's too tired.

He's also savoring the moment by kissing Chris who kisses right back. Piers doesn't know when he'll get this chance again. They should clean off, but Piers' body is weighed down by exhaustion. He yawns. Chris kisses his cheek.

"Get some sleep, Piers, I'll be here when you wake up," Piers lets his eyes shut and he instantly feels the darkness of sleep consume him while he was being warmed by his superior's body.


End file.
